- The best part of waking up.
- There’s a tremor in my fingers as I write the numbers, a flutter just under my ribs as the penciled-in truth hits home. But he is greater.
- Drawing lines between burning boats and resume pieces.
- Annoyed that I feel the need to qualify every tease of something big/new/cool with “I’m not pregnant.” Une femme d’un certain âge.
- I simply cannot today with all this.
- [entry redacted to protect the innocent–suffice to say there was a lot of screaming]
- I have a twinge of guilt serving three different dinners. A disembodied voice says, “Back in my day, everyone ate the same thing and if you complained you went without!” Who is that?
- I have 40% of a voice and feel like lukewarm garbage, but I’ll be damned if I reschedule this.
- Thirty minutes turns into three hours. There’s a barely-perceptible veneer of awkwardness after two years’ silence, but we run the gamut just like old times. I go to bed with a full heart.
- Or rather, I go to bed after I eat a giant cookie and then floss. I have a dentist appointment tomorrow.
Of financial uncertainty, a potty mishap, and the exhausting joy of reconnection.